Making Peace
by Aeryn Alexander
Summary: Harry and Snape are forced to spend some time together ... and for some strange reason, it isn't that bad, or is it? I bet the title gives it away. This story is of the non-slash variety. Complete!
1. A cave in er, dungeon in

Disclaimer: The world of Harry Potter and all who reside therin belong to the woman whose name is on the side of the books: J.K. Rowling. And certainly not to me.   
Title: Making Peace  
Author: Aeryn Alexander  
Summary: Harry and Snape are forced to spend some time together ... and for some strange reason, it isn't that bad, or is it? I bet the title gives it away. This story is of the non-slash variety.  
Rating: PG (for drama and because G sucks -- can I add language now?)  
Genre: General/ Drama (Angst)  
Year: (as if it matters) 5th  
Author's note: I've been reading and writing fan fiction for a while now, but this is my first Harry Potter fiction. I would appreciate any feedback readers have to offer. Constructive criticism is most welcome. Flames ... will be used to defrost my air conditioner. Read? Review?  
  
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Chapter One  
  
A cave- ... er, dungeon-in  
  
  
"Arragh! Five points from Gryffindor!" yelled Professor Snape, following up the outburst with another, although quieter, howl of pain and frustration.  
  
"For what?" asked Harry, wiping the sweat from his brow. He could not help but to sound cross.  
  
"For unnecessarily torturing your potions master." said Snape, leaning back and breathing heavily.  
  
"For a moment I thought you were going to accuse me of causing this." said Harry, sitting down catch his breath and nodding toward the pile of large stones and rubble that had the professor pinned.  
  
"If you weren't serving a detention, Potter, neither of us would have been down here when the construction charm wore off this dungeon." spat Snape venomously.  
  
That statement, though perhaps a bit malicious in its intent, was quite true. Harry Potter was serving yet another detention with Professor Snape. Therefore it was technically, perhaps, his fault that they had been in Snape's dungeon classroom when one of the age old charms that held Hogwarts together finally gave up the ghost. The result of this minor catastrophe was that they were trapped, Snape under the aforementioned pile of debris and Harry, unscathed though he was, there with him as the door had been more than adequately blocked by large pieces of masonry.  
  
"What do you want me to do then?" asked Harry.  
  
"Try using your wand. Maybe you can levitate some of this off me." suggested Snape.  
  
Harry glanced at a pile of rubble that contained part of what was once a table. His wand was somewhere in the conglomeration, probably near the bottom. Severus Snape followed the young man's eyes and groaned. Didn't the boy know any better? No, of course not. He was Harry Potter. He had no need to look after his wand.  
  
"Five points more from Gryffindor for not keeping up with your wand." said Snape.  
  
"And where's _your_ wand then, professor?" asked Harry in a sharp tone.  
  
Professor Snape's right leg from ankle to hip was completely buried by hunks of stone and powdery dust that had turned his robes from black to gray. From the angle, it was difficult to imagine that the leg was not broken. His shoulder had somehow become wedged between two large slabs of aging stonework, but at least they kept him propped in a relatively comfortable position given the circumstances. A small cut next to his right eye was bleeding just slightly, and although it stung, Snape would never admit that the little trickle of blood tickled too. It had been a miracle that the potions' professor had not been crushed.  
  
Severus shifted slightly and noted with some annoyance that something with a pointed tip was boring into his right thigh under the pressure of the heavy debris that had him pinned. It was his wand ... in the wrong pocket ... and out of reach.  
  
"Never mind that, Potter. We'll just have to use our heads ... such as they are." he said.  
  
"You know. I could live without your insults, especially since they aren't getting either of us anywhere." replied Harry.  
  
Snape started to take an additional five points from Harry's house for impertinence, but stopped himself as he grudgingly and silently admitted that the boy was right.  
  
"Have you a brilliant plan to get us out of here then?" questioned Snape.  
  
"Can you apparate like that?"  
  
"You can't apparate or disapparate on Hogwarts grounds."  
  
For a moment Snape sounded something like Hermoine. The effect was quite chilling.  
  
"Right ..." nodded Harry, mulling over the problem.  
  
"Well, it isn't as though we are trapped in a mine or something. Someone, Headmaster Dumbledore for instance, is bound to notice the collapse of the dungeon or your disappearance in a few hours if not by morning at the latest." said Snape, shrugging his unimpaired shoulder.  
  
"And in the mean time?"  
  
"We wait." answered Snape stiffly.  
  
"What about your leg?"  
  
"That's my affair."  
  
"I dare say it is, professor, but mightn't you want something for it?" questioned Harry.   
  
It was difficult to ask the question. In all honestly, Harry hoped the leg hurt like the devil. Snape deserved it. The greasy git had caused him nothing but trouble for almost four and a half years, not to mention what he had done or nearly done to Remus and Sirius. But then, Harry was a Gryffindor through and through and it just wasn't in him to sit idly by while someone else suffered, even if Severus Snape was that someone.  
  
"I have had worse, I assure you, Potter." said the professor.  
  
"Well, yeah, haven't we all? But that doesn't mean that ..."  
  
"I will say it again. It is my leg and my affair." growled Snape.  
  
"Suit yourself then." replied Harry, genuinely sorry that he had asked.  
  
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	2. If it smells like saliva

Chapter Two  
  
If it smells like saliva ...  
  
  
The plan, from Harry's perspective, appeared to be to wait around for Dumbledore or some other professor to come to their rescue. It could certainly be said that the young wizard would have preferred a more proactive approach to their dilemma, but he certainly wasn't going to try and dig his way out with his bare hands. It would have been a fruitless undertaking that he imagined could end quite easily in their deaths if the dungeon collapsed any further.  
  
Most of the tables and chairs had been badly damaged, so Harry found himself seated upon a large piece of stone, absent-mindedly brushing the dust from his robe while he continued to work on the current problem. His eyes drifted toward the door to Snape's private office where he kept all of his most valuable potion ingredients and so forth. There was a little trickle of something oozing under the door. As Harry watched it, the viscous silvery-gray liquid began to smoke ever-so-slightly.  
  
"Professor, one of your potions appears to be escaping." he alerted Snape, who was silently stewing about their predicament.  
  
"Which potion?" questioned Severus, craning his neck to get a look at it.  
  
"It doesn't look like anything I've ever seen." he said, squinting at the substance.  
  
"Maybe if you paid more attention ..." Snape started to say. Then he stopped and squinted at the potion. "I do believe it is partially dissolving the floor."  
  
For all of his many flaws from his bad grooming to his offensive personality, no one could say that Severus Snape didn't know his potions. And he was right. The potion was dissolving a groove into the floor, like a swift and powerful river eroding limestone, only in slow motion. Snape took his best guess as to the flow of the liquid and realized that it would probably flow in his direction.  
  
"Professor?" questioned Harry, watching Snape's eyes trace the projected course of the substance along the floor.  
  
"Potter ... perhaps I could use some assistance." the potions master admitted with some difficulty.  
  
"Of course." agreed Harry, although he could not help but to feel a small twinge of satisfaction. Snape could not afford just to tell him to mind his own affairs.  
  
With that Snape explained to Harry what he had to do to redirect the flow of the potion toward a drain in the far corner. It was tiresome work using jagged pieces of stone to rub a slight indention in the floor that forced the liquid to flow in the preferred direction. When Snape was satisfied, Harry tossed his 'tools' aside and wiped the sweat from his face.  
  
"Thank you, Potter." was all Snape could manage, but even that surprised Harry.  
  
Of course, when he replied, "You're quite welcome, Professor." he was a bit startled too.  
  
Then he heard Snape sniff the air of the room. The professor looked quite puzzled.  
  
"Lacewing ... belladonna ... unicorn saliva ... and ..." he murmured, obviously trying to deduce the composition of the potion by smell.  
  
"Well, at least his big nose is good for something." thought Harry. "So what is it?" he questioned as Severus rolled his eyes and groaned out loud.  
  
"Aromatic."  
  
Harry immediately clapped his hand over his nose and mouth, wondering if they too would dissolve.  
  
"What sort of aromatic?" asked Harry in a muffled voice.  
  
"I think it's a variation of Peacemaker's Oil. Of all the luck!" sighed Snape, closing his eyes.  
  
"I'm not familiar with that one." admitted Harry, removing his hand.  
  
"It turns antagonism and resentment into friendliness and ... and empathy. Somehow the ingredients mixed together ... Oh, blast it all! Why couldn't it have just been a sleep draught or something innocuous?"  
  
Harry almost laughed as he thought, "So that's why we aren't at each other's throats anymore! It's the potion!" "How long will it last, professor?" he asked aloud, hiding his laughter with a well-timed cough.  
  
"Until we get out of this room, I imagine."  
  
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A/N: Wow! Thanks to everyone who reviewed: evil spapple pie, Wink At J00, Phoenix Flight, Bridget McKennit, and snapefan51! I really appreciate it.  
  
A/N 2: If I have somehow screwed up in my potions-making, I am very sorry.  
  
  
  



	3. Oh, Imperious empathy!

Chapter Three  
  
Oh, Imperious empathy!  
  
  
As they sat there in awkward silence, Harry fought the urge to find something to put on the cut on his professor's face, which was obviously bothering the wizard. Severus, due to his wedged shoulder, could not reach the superficial injury even well enough to wipe away the blood. It was nothing more than a nuisance. Harry, on the other hand, had successfully fended off the Imperious Curse before, but had little experience with quashing his own feelings of empathy or compassion. He finally sighed and gave up.  
  
Snape was a bit startled when Harry left his seat and went over to a cauldron of lukewarm distilled water wherein he dipped a ragged piece of cloth, wrung it out, and glanced over his shoulder at the professor. Severus was certain of what the boy was going to do before Potter even knelt next to him on the cold stone floor. He closed his eyes as Harry dabbed at the minute injury. The sensation of itching and tickling faded and ceased.   
  
As Harry continued to wipe away the dust and grime that coated Snape's skin, his eyelids flickered. For a moment Harry stopped what he was doing, startled by his proximity to Snape and afraid that he was going to receive a severe dressing down. But the professor didn't say anything. He didn't even open his eyes. Severus was afraid to open his eyes and look at the boy.  
  
When Harry had cleaned him up passably well, he started to move away, but Snape caught him by the elbow with his free hand and opened his dark eyes.  
  
"Your mother ... you are so much like her." Snape blurted out before he could stop himself.  
  
"My mother, professor?"  
  
"Lily ... she was Madam Pomfrey's assistant for a time. She always treated all the students alike, even Slytherin, even me."  
  
"I never knew that." said Harry quietly.  
  
"It's just the potion talking, you know." whispered Snape, releasing Harry's arm.  
  
"Well, thanks for telling me just the same." said Harry as he returned to his seat.  
  
An uncomfortable silence fell between that both wanted to break and yet left intact. Harry was trying his best to remember that this man was his enemy, a man of uncertain loyalties, who had made his life and that of his friends far more difficult than it otherwise would have been. Snape restrained himself from saying anything and kept his eyes on the wall, or what was left of it, knowing that if he spoke, he would regret his words, would regret anything he might to say to Harry in his current state of mind.  
  
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A/N: Yeah, I know. I took some pretty big liberties with the past. Anyhow, I want to thank everyone who reviewed: Mr. X, Steph, Aurelius, snapefan51, Zardiphillian Beryllix, and Tantz!   
  
  
  
  



	4. Cold comfort

Chapter Four  
  
Cold comfort  
  
  
Harry had tucked his arms inside his robes against the chill that was beginning to overtake the dungeon. It felt almost as though it were growing colder by the second. He glanced at Snape, whose eyes were half closed. The professor gave no sign that he was cold or even aware of the plummeting temperature. Harry grimaced as he found himself wishing for a similar stoicism, for the ability simply to keep a stiff upper lip like that instead of physically shivering against the cold air that stole inside his robes and turned his skin to gooseflesh.  
  
They had not spoken a word, ill or kindly, for the better part of an hour. While it was true that the professor wanted nothing more than to keep that way, Harry had the nagging desire to take advantage of the potion's effects and ask Snape a few questions that had been troubling for quite some time. He would very likely never have the opportunity again.  
  
"Professor Snape?" he questioned.  
  
The potions' master's heavy lids rose and he turned his head toward Harry. He looked slightly ashen. Whether it was due to his physical condition or from some other cause, perhaps foreboding and dread or even the potion, Harry could not tell.  
  
"Potter?"  
  
"When I was a first year ... you saved my life at that Quidditch game." he prefaced.  
  
"I suppose."  
  
"Why'd you do it?" asked Harry. "I mean, the headmaster said it was because of my father ... but you told me that he never saved your life, so ..."  
  
"I didn't do it for James Potter. Maybe not even for Lily, Harry." said Snape, pausing as he realized that he had called Potter by his first name. "There's a lot riding on you, on your abilities, on who are or who people believe you to be. Everyone of you, every student, even Gryffindors, deserves a chance to become a great wizard or fall flat on their face in the attempt. While I admit that I have always expected and perhaps wanted you to do the latter, I would hardly be the man that Albus Dumbledore thinks I am, or the person your mother ... once ... a very long time ago said that I could be, if I let Voldemort deny you that chance, that right."  
  
"So, you protected me ... so I would have the chance to fail?" questioned Harry.  
  
Snape thought about the question for a moment and answered, "Yes, I believe that is an adequate conclusion."  
  
"What kind of person did my mother think you could be?" asked Potter after a moment.  
  
Severus smiled softly. It was a rare sight, Harry thought as the smile vanished. Despite Snape's admission that he believed Harry would never be a great wizard, Harry found that he didn't feel angry. The professor had been honest, even if not particularly nice. Harry watched Severus's eyes drift to his left arm.  
  
"An entirely different sort than I turned out to be." he said.  
  
"You mean a Deatheater."  
  
Snape looked up sharply, but nodded, "Yes, a Deatheater. Lily thought ... She thought I would make an excellent Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, wanted to be one herself, but she ... didn't have stomach for teaching the stuff. I ... ignored her advice for a long time and ..."  
  
"And?"  
  
"See where it's gotten me?" His eyes were on his arm where he bore the Dark Mark. Severus sighed softly. "No more questions, Potter. Please?"  
  
"Yes, professor." he conceded, feeling a mixture of pity for Snape and regret that he had never known the insightful woman who had been his mother. "This potion sure brings me down." he stated.  
  
"Doesn't it." agreed Severus with a short, dry laugh.  
  
He watched Harry pull his robes even tighter around himself and tremble from the cold. Snape wasn't unaware of the dropping temperature, but he had lived in the dungeons for many years. He had been in Slytherin House as a student, after all. Even when all the charms that made Hogwarts a safe and habitable ancient castle were in place, the dungeons could become a bit drafty, especially during the winter.  
  
Noticing the professor's rather piercing stare, Harry commented, "Er, it's a bit nippy down here."  
  
"Of course it is, Potter. We're dozens of feet under solid, frozen earth. It's only natural." he said, not unkindly. "If you're cold ..." Snape began to say, but stopped. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fight back his own amiable feelings. But he lost, despite years of practice. "Come sit over here. We can keep one another warm until help arrives. It shouldn't be long now."  
  
Harry hesitated and tried to think up something horrible about the professor, something to keep him seated on the freezing cold stone, but he couldn't. He only managed a small nod before coming to his feet and making his way toward Snape.  
  
"Thank you, sir." he managed quietly, sitting down next to the potions' master.  
  
Severus put his free arm around the boy's shoulders, pulling him a bit closer. Harry had to admit that he felt warmer, but perhaps it was the blush that had crept into his cheeks. This was not how he had envisioned his detention, not at all.  
  
Harry glanced up at Severus, who a peculiar look in his eyes, a sad and perhaps wistful look. Harry felt his own eyes begin to mist over with tears behind his glasses and looked hastily away. He had just made the connection that Severus Snape was the same age as his father would have been.  
  
"Harry ... I am sorry about Lily ... and James too. I wish you could have known them." Severus told him, overwhelmed by a sudden uncanny feeling of empathy. "Potion-induced, no doubt." he thought to himself.  
  
"I've often been told what my father was like ... by you and Professor Lupin and ... other people. Everyone's story is a little different, but no one ever says much about my mum." said Harry, leaving his question unspoken.  
  
Severus unconsciously tightened his grip as he took a deep breath and began, "Well, she was a Gryffindor in every sense of the word ... brave even in a pinch ... and noble as anything, of course, ... smart and quite fetching in her own way. She was clever too ..."  
  
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A/N: I want to thank those who have chosen to review. Thank you, Steph, SilverWolf, snapefan51, kalariah, PandaBear007, blueyed-angel, and Lady FoxFire!!  
A note on chapter size: I try to chapter stories out in a logical manner. Sometimes chapters are short. Other times they are not.  
To answer the slash question ... I enjoy slash (the tasteful and romantic variety), but I can't write it to save my life. So ... this story is not now nor will it ever be what I consider slash.  
And, blueyed-angel, I so agree! I want to read more about Lily too and I can't wait for the next book.  
  
  



	5. Worth a thousand words

Chapter Five  
  
Worth a thousand words  
  
  
The last bit of fallen dungeon was levitated down the hallway, allowing enough room for both the headmaster and Professor McGonagall to squeeze into the classroom. The task had taken the better part of the night, and most of their fellow teachers were still working to replace certain charms that had rather mysteriously failed them. As they entered the classroom, Albus Dumbledore chuckled softly with a twinkle in his eyes while Minerva simply put one hand to her mouth in a rather twisted expression of both horrified shock and tenderness. Severus and Harry had fallen asleep. The Boy-Who-Lived was seated next to the former Deatheater, resting his head on the older man's shoulder. The potions' professor was snoring softly, fast asleep despite his broken leg and wretchedly pinned shoulder.  
  
"If only I had thought to bring a camera." Dumbledore mumbled absently.  
  
Harry moved slightly and opened his eyes. He blinked sleepily for a moment before spying the two professors near the door.  
  
"Harry." Albus acknowledged.  
  
"Sir." said Harry, suppressing a yawn. "We knew you'd come."  
  
"We spent much of the night digging the dungeons out. I am afraid that most of Slytherin House slept the night in the Great Hall." said Albus.  
  
"Were there no free beds in any of the other houses?" questioned Professor Snape, untangling his arm from Harry. The fumes were beginning to clear and so was his head.  
  
"They seemed rather indignant when I suggested they sleep in the Gryffindor common room." said Professor McGonagall a bit icily.  
  
"How long were we down here?" questioned Snape.  
  
"All told, I believe about six hours." answered Dumbledore.  
  
"Hours? Only six hours? It felt more like six days." replied Severus, looking at his pinned and broken leg meaningfully.  
  
"Right. We will have you free in an instant." said the headmaster.  
  
Harry stood up and brushed the dust from his robes while the two professors freed their colleague from beneath the rubble. He could feel the effects of the potion lessening as the air of the classroom mixed with that of the hallway outside. For a moment he wondered if the Peacemaker's Oil might have a positive, albeit temporary, effect on Slytherin House, whose dormitory was not very far away.  
  
"It will have dissipated long before it reaches them." he sighed to himself.  
  
As Harry watched Dumbledore and McGonagall haul Snape to his feet, their excavation complete, he felt a twinge of wistful regret. It was unlikely that he would ever be on such good terms with the potions' master again. He thought about what Snape had told him about his parents and was glad the opportunity was not wasted. Harry felt a lump form in his throat as Severus looked at him. There was a strange, sad look in those dark eyes that, had he only realized, was mirrored in his own.  
  
Dumbledore and McGonagall, who looked very prim, supported Snape as he tested his weight on his broken limb. He shook his head mutely as a ripple of pain ran through his leg. It simply would not hold him.  
  
"Very well." said Dumbledore. He glanced at Harry and asked, "I suppose you will be accompanying us on our visit to the infirmary?"  
  
"I'm all right, professor. But do you want any help with him?" he questioned, nodding slightly toward Severus.  
  
"Oh, we'll manage, Harry. If you don't require medical attention, please return to Gryffindor Tower. I imagine you have some people waiting there to see you. Mister Weasley and Miss Granger were quite distraught last night when your disappearance was first noted." Dumbledore informed him.  
  
"Yes, sir." replied Harry as the three professors began making their way to see Madam Pomfrey and he began the long walk toward the tower dormitory alone.  
  
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A/N: I want to thank everyone who reviewed: What's in a name, Pheonix Flight, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Kara the Slytherin Mage, DescendingAngel, Steph, and snapefan51!  
  
  
  
  



	6. If wishes were owls with packages

Chapter Six  
  
If wishes were ... owls with packages  
  
  
It was sometime during the next night when Harry was awakened by a quiet tapping at the window. He put his glasses on and crept from bed. A medium sized owl, a school owl by the look of it, was perched on the window sill. Harry opened the window and let the bird inside. It placed a long, narrow box down on the interior sill in front of Harry, fluttered its wings and flew gracefully out of the tower and back toward the Owlery. Harry sighed softly as he closed the window and returned to his warm bed with the box. He knew what was inside before he even opened it, and he was grateful.  
  
The wand, his wand, had been polished and possibly repaired, though he was not certain whether or not it had been damaged in the incident. A small card was inside the box with the wand. Harry squinted in the darkness to read it:  
  
"Mind your things. S.S." the card read in a spidery scrawl.  
  
Harry chuckled softly and tucked the card away. It was something to remember the detention by. He held his wand for a few minutes before laying it on the stand by the bed with his glasses and curling up under the covers again.  
  
"Wouldn't it be nice," he thought sleepily, "if Snape could more like he was when we were under the influence of the Peacemaker's Oil."  
  
Harry sighed miserably to himself. Impossible.   
  
Then he had an idea ...  
  
"I could try to brew the stuff. If it was made as the result of an accident ... then how difficult could it be?" he thought.  
  
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A/N: Everyone's jumping to conclusions, which is something this story hasn't had yet. It still has a chapter or two left in it, albeit shortish chapters mostly. Ahem. Thanks for reviewing, Steph, Jedi Amoira, Selina, Slyvara Snape, anonymous reviwer, and What's in a name! I am most appreciative.  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. The secret, well, missing ingredient

Chapter Seven  
  
The secret, well, missing ingredient  
  
  
The double-potions' class had been going on for sometime. Some of the more advanced students were working on their end of term projects, including, Snape observed, Harry Potter, who had finally begun to take the art of potion-making seriously. He looked at the ingredients on Harry's table where he was working alone: lacewing, belladonna, and unicorn saliva. A few more ingredients, most of them rather exotic, were near at hand too. Severus shook his head sadly. Potter was trying to recreate Peacemaker's Oil by experimentation. He had never told him the final ingredient of the rarely used variant of the potion. A part of him was touched by the gesture, not to mention the effort, which was substantial, and the care that Potter was exercising in brewing the aromatic substance.  
  
As the other students filed out at the end of the period, including Ron and Hermoine, who did not fully understand their friend's recent potion obsession, Snape left his desk and watched Harry as he continued to work, oblivious of the fact that the class had ended. The young man was dedicated, Severus admitted grudgingly.  
  
"Have you no other classes this afternoon, Mister Potter?" he inquired. His tone was not without a certain disguised warmth. It wasn't everyday that a student stayed willingly after class.  
  
Harry looked up slowly from the simmering cauldron and glanced around. The time had gone quickly for him, too quickly, it seemed.  
  
"Professor ... I'm so close. I can feel it."  
  
"Can you now?" asked Snape with a trifle of annoyance in his voice. The boy was still so arrogant.  
  
"I believe I can ..."  
  
Severus looked at the potion and sighed softly to himself. The boy was right: only one thing was missing from the masterfully brewed concoction.  
  
"Ground black pearl, Mister Potter. It is in the pantry, on the top shelf. But _do_ be careful with it. You will recall the effect the potion had upon the stone floor just over there." said Snape, nodding toward a fine groove in the floor of the dungeon.  
  
"Of course, Professor." Harry nodded.  
  
"Bottle a sample for me when you have completed this project." he instructed, turning to leave.  
  
"You won't stay?"  
  
"No, Potter. I dare say I won't."  
  
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A/N: In case, anyone's curious, just one more chapter to go. Thanks for reviewing, snapefan51, SilverWolf, Zardiphillian Beryllix, and What's in a name! Just as a note ... I like nice, neat endings (when I can get them) ...   
  
  
  



	8. Learning to make peace

Chapter Eight  
  
Learning to make peace  
  
  
Harry sighed aloud as the potions' professor swept out of the dungeon, leaving him alone with his work. How he had pored over book after book looking for the recipe for the potion! Only to find that the actual, genuine Peacemaker's Oil was one of the most difficult to brew in all of wizarding history. Snape had called the accidental potion a variant, after all. As it turned out, a very simple variation with less predictable effects than the real thing, including the ability to induce sleep and a disproportionate increase in empathy, which explained a lot.  
  
Harry added the black pearl with great care, determined not to spoil the potion, even if it would not serve his true purpose, which was to rediscover the Professor Snape who had told him stories of the by-gone days before Voldemort rose to power and his parents were still alive. The potion bubbled and hissed. The color looked right, which was always a good sign.  
  
"Harry?" questioned a voice from behind him.  
  
He looked over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Professor Dumbledore in the door of the recently repaired and reconstructed dungeon.  
  
"Hello, sir, if you're looking for Professor Snape ..."  
  
"I passed him in the corridor. He looked a bit annoyed. Turned down a chocolate frog ..." said Dumbledore, shaking his head in disbelief. "Severus was a real chocolate frog man in his younger days. He could never turn them down. I felt the same way about Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans until that fateful day ..." he explained with a bit of a sigh.  
  
"That's hard to imagine, sir. Him, eating chocolate frogs, I mean."  
  
"Even after the misadventure the two of you shared?" questioned the headmaster.  
  
Harry thought for a moment and answered, "No, I suppose you're right, professor."  
  
"What are you brewing there, Harry?"  
  
"It's an experiment ... a variety of Peacemaker's Oil."  
  
"Ah ... and you are trying to make peace with Severus no doubt. Commendable."  
  
"When we were trapped down here, we had an understanding because of the potion. It made him ... so much nicer. He was different ... someone I would be honored to call a friend." Harry admitted.  
  
"I am quite surprised, Mister Potter. From what I have heard, you have spent many long hours in the library studying potions' tomes in your free time, painstakingly researching this ... experiment."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Then you ought to know that Peacemaker's Oil doesn't really add anything to the character of those under its influence. It only takes away."  
  
"I don't think I understand."  
  
"The potion didn't make Professor Snape a different person, nicer or better. I think you can probably deduce from your own experience that it merely removed the barriers of anger and resentment, which for him are quite substantial, especially regarding you."  
  
Harry frowned as the realization hit him. The people that Professor Snape and he had been in the dungeon weren't a product of an aromatic potion. They were themselves when all the long harbored bad feelings and ill will had been stripped away. The potion had simply allowed them to be their better selves.  
  
"Well, Harry?" probed Dumbledore with a smile.  
  
"Yes, I understand now." he replied, looking down at his finished potion and taking the cauldron from the flame. "But what should I do?" he questioned.  
  
"Well, Potter, you can start by following my instructions and bottling some of that." said an irritable voice from the door.  
  
Harry turned and saw Professor Snape standing just behind the headmaster, arms crossed over his chest and looking less than amused, although certainly not entirely displeased. He seemed to be somewhat uncomfortable.  
  
"Of course, professor."  
  
"And fill a bottle for me if you don't mind. Useful stuff to have around in a pinch. That should leave enough for a third bottle ... for your own use, if Professor Snape doesn't mind, that is."  
  
"Potions aren't toys, Potter. Just be careful how you use it." said Snape rather reluctantly.  
  
"Thank you, sir." nodded Harry, fetching two bottles for the professors before removing one from his own kit.  
  
"At least we know it works." commented the potions' master with a slight, although not unkindly smirk.  
  
"Now, now, Severus. It isn't nice to take advantage of someone under the influence of a mood-altering potion, especially when you aren't willing to be subjected to it yourself." chided Dumbledore.  
  
"I intend to remain in the hallway until Mister Potter has finished the bottling process. I am in no mood to wax nostalgic about my school days again, for his amusement or yours, headmaster." said Snape stiffly.  
  
Dumbledore smiled kindly at Harry, who was doing his best to fill the bottles while they watched, a rather nerve wracking experience to say the least.  
  
"I will just take one of those and be on my way." said Dumbledore as Harry finished filling the two stock bottles with a still fizzing liquid of a rather lovely silvery-gray hue. "You have done a fine job here, Harry, and I thank you." said the headmaster appreciatively.  
  
"You're quite welcome, sir." said Harry.  
  
As Dumbledore left, Snape remained hovering by the dungeon door until Harry had corked the remaining bottles and emptied the nearly drained cauldron.  
  
"You have the skill necessary to be an adequate master of potions someday." commented Snape as he approached the table where Harry was working and lifted one of the bottles for inspection.  
  
"Do you really think so?"  
  
"Yes." said Severus. "Your innovation, your dedication to the research and methods, your investment of time ... it's all there. Those things would make you an excellent brewer of magical draughts ..." he said, hesitating as he realized what he was saying. "But ..."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I would advise you as your mother advised me. Potions and their study can be a step down a darker road, a road that you need not take, Harry. Perhaps your time ... and talents would be best spent in other pursuits." Severus told him solemnly.  
  
Harry lowered his eyes and looked at the silvery bottle on the table, his creation, the product of many hours of study and many hours of experimental potion-making. He had, he knew, enjoyed both very much.  
  
"Have I dissuaded you?" inquired Snape.  
  
"No, sir." he answered, looking up at the professor.  
  
"Then I recommend that you sign up for additional potions classes next term. You have some catching up to do, Mister Potter."  
  
  
The End  
  
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A/N: I want to thank everyone who has reviewed, kalariah, Steph, Vegeta Jr (four times at once!), shadowjardis, Lauren, SilverWolf, Zardiphillian Beryllix, Footmonster, and anyone who chooses to review later! You people have been the best! I hope the ending is satisfactory.  
  
  



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